I remember Harsha Bhogle telling me once that 25 percent of a commentator’s success can be attributed to a statistician and he says Mohandas is special because he is a giver of information. Many a times, he has worked with statisticians who unless pushed never give any interesting information. Sharing is a trait a statistician needs to have and it comes from someone who is good natured because everything he does is actually going to make someone else look good. His love for the subject has to be total and unconditional.
Mohan’s place is always next to the commentator and he is actually the one person commentators rely on the most. He recounts that the commentary box, especially during a rain affected match becomes quite an entertainment zone, where ex-cricketers get nostalgic and come up with priceless anecdotes. One of the funniest incidents that Mohan remembers is that on one such day Sunny Gavaskar was patiently working on one of his articles in the commentary box. A bored Danny Morrison was sitting next to him. To kill time Mohan asked Danny whether he remembered the 100 Sunny scored in an ODI against New Zealand. Danny in his inimitable style recounted that it was his debut match and he had got smashed by Sunny and Srikanth. While all this was happening Sunny suddenly looked up through his glasses and said to Danny, “By the way do you know that I was out caught behind in the first over but nobody appealed so I didn’t go.” As soon as Sunny said this, the blood from Danny’s face drained and he was in a state of shock. I think he was possibly thinking about how his life would have changed if he had got the legendary Sunil Gavaskar’s wicket in his debut over. That wicket would have changed his entire career graph.
14
Touring Around The World
“Do you have a valid passport?”
I had just completed auditioning with Sony Max and little did I know that this single line was going to change my life forever.
I couldn’t sleep for two days after that because for some reason I thought that something really exciting was going to happen. Two days later I was called to the Sony office where I was told, “We are launching a new show called Extra Innings for the World Cup in South Africa and we need some fillers on the show. Unfortunately we don’t have the time to shoot it here so can you go to South Africa?” By this time my medulla oblongata had reached my kidneys. The excitement was truly killing me.
A few months later I was entering the Centurion Stadium in South Africa with an accreditation badge around my neck which said:
All Access | ICC World Cup 2003 |Commentator
Never in my wildest dreams would I have dreamt of this moment.
South African Safari
My association with the game changed my life and it started taking me to places which I had often failed to pinpoint on a map in my geography exams. Till the 2003 World Cup I could only associate South Africa with Nelson Mandela’s struggles and obviously African elephants in the wild. I was curious to see Mandela’s land but I was not a great fan of wildlife because I used to visit Gurgaon every fortnight.
So here I was making my World Cup cricketing debut without having played even a single match of consequence. Cricketers had to play hundreds of international matches to be where I was. I just had to watch them on TV and imitate them. What a waste of my time that I even tried to play the game.
I spent 2½ months in a plush apartment at the Waterfront in Capetown doing 1-minute spoofs every alternative day with beautiful women like Mandira Bedi, Maria Goretti, Sandhya Mridul and Mini Mathur on one side and former greats like Kapil Dev, Ian Bishop, MAK Pataudi, Tony Greig and Arun Lal on the other. If I were to call any travel company and estimate a cost to this tour package, they would have probably charged a million dollars for it.
A typical Indian is more interested in the “Package Tours” philosophy of travelling to 14 countries in 13 days. These are the people who would rather tick mark countries off their check list than actually spend time seeing them. For a Maharashtrian, the highlight of any such tour would be having puranpoli in Paris rather than understanding the genesis of the French Revolution. Unfortunately, I subscribed to this philosophy too. I am one of those people who despite having travelled to hundreds of countries in the last decade have more or less not really seen anything around these countries. I truly believe that the view that you get from the hotel room window and the car drive to the airport are enough to figure-out the cultural history and economic nuances of that country. But during my long stay in Cape Town I did manage to explore a few sites purely because of the fear of the people back home who would have cursed me for wasting a splendid opportunity. I went to the Table Mountain despite my fear of heights and took some pictures from the Newlands Cricket Ground which perhaps offers the best view of the mountain. The view is so beautiful that I don’t blame Indian batsmen for throwing away their wicket at this venue because it’s really difficult to concentrate on the ball when there is so much of beauty around and I’m not even talking about the women. This possibly could be one of the reasons why Indian batsmen struggle on foreign pitches and have never won a series in South Africa.
The trip I enjoyed the most was when some of the enthusiastic members of the Sony team decided to visit Robben Island which was an hour’s ferry ride from Cape Town. Inspite of my aversion to visit historical places, I volunteered for this because I had happened to read a few chapters from Nelson Mandela’s autobiography “The Long Walk to Freedom” which blew my mind. I was just amazed by his intensity and determination to achieve the cause he stood for. Though I had read about the historical significance, the only thing that I was really waiting for during this tour of Robben Island was the room where he stayed for 17 years. When I saw the place I was shocked. It was a 10 x 10 cell, with barely enough space to lie down and I felt claustrophobic within 5 minutes and couldn’t imagine how he must have stayed there for 17 years. Every person in Mumbai who cribs about their 1 BHK apartment being small should visit Robben Island and only then will you realise that you are wallowing in luxury. The only difference is that unlike some of us Mumbaikars, Mandela’s thoughts were never imprisoned.
During my many visits to South Africa, there were two goldmines that I chanced upon. One was the Gold Reef Mine Tour where one could actually get to see gold slabs deep inside the surface of the earth. This place would have been a Keralite’s dream come true. Interestingly many of the workers and tourist guides were actually prison inmates who had been rehabilitated and the tour was quite fascinating.
The other gold mine which had a bigger impact on me was the house where Mandela lived in Soweto. Entering this room made me feel like I was reliving history. The exteriors of this house still have the bullet marks from the past and as you go inside you see interesting things like Mandela’s shoes and the World Championship belt that Sugar Ray Leonard presented to him. All those moments which Mandela’s autobiography mentioned suddenly came alive as I sat there standing and looking at this cottage. It’s moments like these which give me far more satisfaction than the gold bars in the mine. South Africa holds a special place in my heart.
This was a unique tour because, for the first time, outsiders like us were being experimented with for cricket programming. Until then, commentating had been a monopoly of ex-cricketers. This was also the debut series of Mandira Bedi and many other presenters like her and we were all stationed in Cape Town. It was a big party. Honestly when I was summoned there I had no idea what I was going to do so I just carried a couple of blazers, a fake beard and a few turbans in case I was asked to imitate Sidhu at some point of time.
Touring is generally seen as a lonely experience and being away from home and its comforts invariably forces people to get closer and form strong bonds. I not only got a chance to spend a lot of time discussing the game with legendary cricketers but also explore their individual personalities better. Can you imagine an evening where you get to discuss the nuances of hunting with the likes of MAK Pataudi over a glass of wine? I was ecstatic.
Food is an important part of touring and most conversations kick off over th
e need to find a good source for Indian food. Even understanding the current lot of players happened better on tour and made me understand their mental state during a Test match. This happened one evening when we had MS Dhoni and Irfan Pathan coming over for dinner to our room during the first Test match of the 2006 SA tour. Both were craving to have some home cooked food and as Mr Lele was cooking so they decided to drop in. Trust me if the hotel guys had found out that he cooked khichdi and sabji in the hotel room they would have thrown us out. How the fire alarm didn’t go off that evening was a miracle. We sat on the floor and had a sumptuous meal. Next day India won the Test. I thought once again the khichdi played a critical role and was the turning point as prior to this, India had lost all the ODIs in the series. Well that evening I tried to get a few stories out of MS but it was in vain and while leaving the room he said, “Yeh hamari story bata ke paise kamate hein, hum phir apni autobiography mein kya likhenge.” Now you understand why he is such a street smart captain.
One person who amazed me during the 2003 World Cup was Kris Srikanth, a pure vegetarian. He had come to terms with the fact that it was pointless depending on others during a long tour. So he used to cook his own South Indian meal comprising of rice, yogurt not dahi, Pringles as a replacement for papad and sauce as a substitute for rasam. Blasphemous as it may sound, he ate this for all his 3 meals for all 60 days we were there. He told me that this had been his diet for his entire cricketing life which surprised me because it defied everything that Australian nutritional experts had prescribed. Over the years, I was convinced that rasam possibly had built in anabolic steroid like properties which the World Anti Doping Agency was never able to detect.
In a home series the Indian curry probably claims more victims off the field than the bowlers on the field.
Well, food is a bigger problem for cricketers from outside the subcontinent touring India. Thanks to the IPL they have at least been exposed to a variety of cuisines and many have got a chance to adapt their taste buds to Indian spices. But generally the players suffer because of the heat and our nuclear waste like curries which form a deadly combination that can decimate the most deadly of English and Australian attacks by eroding their intestines. This is probably the only reason why the BCCI has never bothered about preparing competitive pitches back home and reaping long-term benefits, because they knew that most visiting teams would be done in by the food. It’s surprising that the English still have a problem with curries, considering that Chicken Tikka Masala is their unofficial national dish. The chefs in India should get as much credit for home series victories as Indian bowlers because the Indian curry has probably claimed more victims off the field than the bowlers on the field. This is also one of the reasons that the Indians roar like lions at home. Much before the “Liz Hurley Diet”, Shane Warne used to eat normally. Ian Healy said about Warnie that his idea of a balanced diet was having a cheese burger in both hands. But during the tours to India, he always carried baked beans, pizza and a whole lot of other stuff and had the ability to eat tonnes of food over an evening. Even as a child he used to keep a sandwich in his trouser pockets while playing. I guess bite off the wicket had a different meaning for him then. Just like that fat kid who was notorious for stealing tiffin boxes in school, Warnie was notorious for consuming food meant for his teammates. That’s one of the reasons that Ricky Ponting used to give him the last over before lunch to prevent him from reaching the dressing room before everyone else did because apparently once Warnie got there first and by the time the rest of the team had reached, the custard was over.
My favourite story though is of off-spinner Romesh Powar, told to me by some of the Mumbai cricketers. Apparently once he was caught having 16 chappatis during a lunch interval of a local game. The captain was shocked and asked him, “How can you eat 16 chapatis?” He replied, “I didn’t have rice, that’s why.” At a time when most dieticians say “eat rotis, not rice”, this made a valid justification. Sometimes having a big appetite can help you get out of trouble and save your life as well. When Mike Gatting was alleged to have misbehaved with the barmaid in his room, the entire English team including Ian Botham came to his rescue saying, “Mike could not have possibly done that because everything that Mike orders in his room after 10, he eats.”
One of the great things about watching matches in countries like Australia, England and South Africa is that you can actually step out to have a cup of tea and still come back to find your seat vacant. One is not fortunate enough to experience such small pleasures in India. Once you have occupied your seat and put your sweater or any ownership item on it no one will sit on it or claim that they had it years back. Very rarely would one reprimand you or remind you that he was some minister’s son or related to the Prime Minister and have you thrown into some remote corner of the field. Therefore the relative lack of stress that accompanies watching a match at SCG makes the game far more interesting than watching one in India where you are forever worried about someone displacing you from your seat claiming that he has a bigger claim because his grandfather was a local MP in 1948. The other thing that gives you tremendous relief is that you can go to the loo without the constant fear of standing for the rest of the match. In India people possibly come with a catheter because they don’t want to take the risk of losing their seat. I have seen people not leave their seat for hours. Those who don’t, possibly have the strongest bladders and kidneys in the world thereby becoming specimens worthy of medical research.
In 2006 I had the opportunity to visit South Africa as a part of the commentary team for ESPN STAR SPORTS. Yes you are reading it right — as a part of the commentary team comprising of Ravi Shastri, Sunil Gavaskar, Wasim Akram, Ian Chappell, Harsha Bhogle and Alan Wilkins. Obviously my job there was not to do commentary but do a small light hearted show with Alan Wilkins called ‘Tea Spot’ during the tea interval every day of the Test match. The best thing about this experience was that I actually was part of a commentary team consisting of legends of the game, but when I finished the tour I realised that this was the last time I would ever be a part of the actual commentary team.
A commentary team is an ex-cricketer’s fiefdom and if anyone from the outside tries to infiltrate it, he or she will be treated with utter disdain. Forget an outsider, even if you have played 20 Test matches less than the previous commentator you could be in trouble and here I had only played about 20 school cricket matches and was sitting next to Sunil Gavaskar. A few of the ex-cricketers I have met have behaved in an even more insecure way than a 19-year-old actor trying to bag a film role.
Over the first two Test matches, Sunil Gavaskar made me realise in his own style that this was not a place I should be seen around. One day while I was doing an episode where I was to play the role of an Indian cricketer, I wore the India cap which I had purchased from the Nike outlet which was then the Official Merchandising Partner appointed by the BCCI. He hauled me in front of everyone and said in his typical style, “If you have not played for India why are you wearing this cap?” I tried to explain to him that this was authorised official merchandise for the fans but he feigned ignorance. This incident along with a few others is when I decided that I would rather do live shows and make a decent living, than do live cricket television and take insults. I dread to even think of what Harsha Bhogle went through to gain acceptability over the last 20 years. I guess he was good enough, I wasn’t. The other lesson I learnt was that sometimes it is better not to meet your heroes in real life.
The English Summer
The second cricketing tour that I ever did was the 2004 Champions Trophy in England. It was my first trip to the country and my heart used to pound everytime I approached a stadium like Lord’s, The Oval or even Trentbridge in Nottingham. This is very similar to what Ekta Kapoor feels when she enters a Balaji Temple. I used to pinch myself every day to be in the moment because this was so unreal. Am I really here or is this an extended dream?
The morning after I landed I had to go to Hampshire for a
game. An English production co-ordinator told me to be in the lobby at 7 am and a driver would be waiting for me to drive me to the Southampton Rose Bowl cricket ground where I would be shooting an episode. I was a little tense due to the excitement but finally managed to sleep a bit. At 7 am sharp, I went down to the lobby of my hotel in Pimlico. There was no one there who remotely looked like a driver to me. Sometimes you are a little scared to call the production controller again because you get a feeling that she might scold you or shout at you. When I did call, she said that the driver had been waiting for me for the last 15 minutes. I went back to the lobby again and waited for 2 more minutes when I saw a smart man wearing a jacket, a tie and a lovely hat shouting “Sote”. It took me a minute to realise he meant “Sathaye”, my surname. All these days I was used to being called “Sethi” in the north and “Sathaya” in the south or in Bengal. “Sote” was new and therefore it took some time to register. The bigger problem was that I wouldn’t have, even in my wildest dreams guessed that George was a driver. He looked like the chairman of a mid-sized company. I recalled that I had seen him when I first stepped into the lobby, but there was no way that I could have guessed he was my driver. So when he actually led me to the car, unlike India, I went ahead and sat on the seat beside him. I just couldn’t get myself to sit behind. I guess the minds of many Indians are still in pre-Independence days. Someone who has overcome this in a big way is Vijay Mallaya and I kind of like him for this. Every time one sees him on an international flight, he has a white bodyguard who lifts his luggage. In a very strange Rajnigandha pan masala TV commercial way it’s good to watch this. I know it’s a bit weird but when one sees 70,000 Aussies or 60,000 English give Sachin a 3-minute standing ovation, there is something very special about it. That’s the beauty of sport, it crosses all boundaries.
How Sachin Destroyed My Life: but gave me an All Access Pass to the world of Cricket Page 12
